Broken but Mending
by FallingIsTheBestPart
Summary: If it was her choice, she would have stayed in New York. If it was her choice, she wouldn't have had to move to Beacon Hills. If it was her choice, her parents wouldn't have died. Of course, this was all before she met Scott McCall, a boy with a secret who threatens to knock down all of her walls and unleash secrets that could rip her family apart. Literally. Scott / OC
1. 01

"So, how are you liking Beacon Hills so far?"

Ellie had heard that question so many times over the last two weeks it didn't even seem like words any more. She understood that her uncle wanted her to feel welcome, and all, but he was overdoing by a long shot. Then again, it probably didn't help that the death of her parents occurred at the same time he moved his family, meaning the place was just as unfamiliar to him as it was to her.

The truth was, she wasn't liking Beacon Hills. Her whole life had been in New York, in one apartment with the same view of hundreds of skyscrapers. She went to Times Square every New Year's Eve, she went to the same high school and she'd known all of her friends (though they were scarce) since birth. The only thing that made the town even slightly bearable was that she had Allison Argent, her cousin, there with her every step of the way.

The girls were incredibly close, and even looked more like siblings than cousins. They both had the same dark hair, the same hazel eyes and the same sharp jaws. Allison was the only person Ellie ever spoke about her parents with, and the girl tried her best to understand the pain she went through.

Sophomore year was starting soon, and Ellie wasn't looking forward to it. She would be repeating the year because of an unseemly amount of fails on her last set of exams. The death of her mum and dad threw her life into turmoil and the time she was supposed to spend studying was instead at the florists picking out bouquets, or at Macy's choosing a dress.

The funeral was the first time she'd worn a dress since she was ten, and she didn't plan on reliving the experience. She was perfectly fine with her _'devil-may-care' _attitude and worn out combat boots. Allison had a different approach, with her girly summer dresses and fashionable boots.

"It's great, Uncle Chris," Ellie sighed, not bothering to look over at him, "Just the same as it was two hours ago,"

So, she wasn't the most polite person in the world, she never had been, but she blamed it on the fact that she didn't have a filter between her mouth and her brain. She said what she thought, and that, more often than not, got her in trouble with other people.

"I'm sorry," he laughed, "I'm suffocating you, I know. I'm just worried."

"I know, Uncle Chris," she groaned, "But, seriously, I'm trying to read,"

She was trying to read. Her feet were propped on the sofa, her head on the arm rest and _Dracula _open on her lap. She was tempted to just give up on the summer reading list that had been sent through the mail, but her Aunt would have her eyeballs for earrings if she did. Aunt Victoria was actually kind of scary. She had what could only be described as _'serial-killer-eyes' _but she chose to keep that observation to herself.

"Hey," Allison jumped down next to her, a ball of energy, "So, I was thinking, tonight we should look around the town, find the high school, you know, so we don't get lost."

Ellie raised her eyebrow, "That…" she glanced down at the paperback, "Sounds better than reading this, actually. Let's go,"

They couldn't leave straight away, Ellie had to change into more suitable clothing (apparently society doesn't find grey sweats and a tank top suitable for a young lady). She only changed into a pair of ripped jeans and threw a green jumper over the tank before running out to Allison's _Mazda _and jumping into the passenger's seat.

The next two hours were spent driving around town, eating curly fries and complaining about school starting. Apparently they had even less time until the start of sophomore year than she thought: the school year started the next day.

"I can't believe this," Ellie sank further into her seat, "Tomorrow? I thought we had at least a week!"

"Nope," Allison giggled, looking over at her cousin with a grin, "Up at 5am, bright and early!"

Taking her eyes off of the road was probably a bad idea, because suddenly they were swerving around a person, screaming at the top of their lungs.

"Oh my God!" Ellie yelled, "We have to go back! Pull over!"

"I'm pulling over, I'm pulling over!" Allison shouted back, stopping the car in the middle of the road. It was raining, but neither of them cared, too busy running back to where the person had now disappeared.

"It's really creepy," Ellie whispered, looking at the wide expanse of woods stretching on the side of the road. There was a trail, she could make out through the rain, so, against her better judgment, she crept slowly down the path. "What…?" she glanced down and saw an inhaler, innocently sat there like it wasn't totally out of place. She bent down to touch it, but was stopped by Allison's hand on her shoulder.

"Ellie, let's just go," Allison said urgently, tugging on her cousin's arm. They both trudged back to the car, and didn't speak again for the rest of the night.

Ellie woke up to the sound of Allison singing in the shower. It was a Justin Bieber song, and that, coupled with her cousin's terrible singing voice, made her feel like her ears were bleeding. Allison wasn't even a fan, she just knew it was something that would annoy the living hell out of her cousin.

"Shut up!" she yelled.

"Get out of bed!" Al shouted back.

Ellie groaned, but did as she was told. Reluctantly, she walked to her own bathroom, showered and then straightened her hair in the mirror. Looking her best definitely wasn't a priority. Why would it be? She was planning on getting the hell out of Beacon Hills as soon as high school was over; making a positive impression on her peers was the least important thing in the world to her.

She threw on some underwear, grabbed a pair of blue jeans, yanked them on, and then dug around in one of her drawers to find a top that wasn't too small for her. She did pull one out, eventually (a plain black long sleeved shirt) and tugged it on, grabbing a jacket before she sailed down the stairs and to the kitchen. Her aunt was there, holding a plate of toast ready, and Allison was munching on a bagel in the corner. Ellie didn't ask where her uncle Chris was; he was most likely on some top secret firearms selling mission that was 'none of her concern'.

"We should get going," Al said after swallowing, "Don't want to be late on our first day,"

Ellie made a face, grabbed her school bag.

"Goodbye!" Aunt Victoria called behind the girls as they ran to the same positions they'd been in last night.

They had to wait outside the building for the vice principal to show up, as was 'protocol' for new students. Ellie didn't find that fair at all, because her hoodie was thin and the cold was seeping through like she was in the arctic, not California.

Allison was sat next to her, looking bored but excited, and rummaging through her bag to check she had everything. Her phone rang, breaking the silence, and she put it on speaker as soon as she answered.

"Mum, three calls on our first day is a little overdoing it," she said plainly, trying not to be mad about how protective her family was.

"I'm just trying to make sure you've got everything," Victoria explained, sounding exasperated at her daughter's lack of appreciation.

"Well, we have," Ellie informed her, digging around in her school bag. "I've got everything…" she groaned suddenly, "Everything except a pen. Oh, jeez, I can't believe I actually forgot a pen."

The girls both looked up, and Allison hurriedly said, "Okay, okay, we've got to go. Love you," before hanging up and throwing the phone back in her bag. The vice principal was walking toward them, smiling politely. He was short, with caramel coloured skin and wearing a grey suit.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he apologised as the two girls stood up. Ellie stayed silent, not really caring. The longer they got out of lessons, the better. "So, your father told us San Francisco isn't where you grew up?"

"No," Allison answered, "But we lived there for more than a year with is unusual for my family. Ellie only just moved in with us this summer, though,"

The man looked at the other Argent with interest, "Oh?"

"I grew up in New York," Ellie shrugged, "But apparently dead parents warrant moving all the way across the country,"

"Well," he said after a moment of awkward silence, "Hopefully Beacon Hills will be your last stop for a while." There wasn't any talking after that as they walked to what Ellie assumed was their first lesson. The class was already packed, she saw, apart from two seats in the centre of the room. "Class," the vice principal started as the girls moved into the room, "These are our new students, Allison and Ellie Argent. Please do your best to make them feel welcome."

Allison smiled at the people in the class, but Ellie just gave them a fleeting glance before dragging herself to a seat behind a guy with brown hair that fell in a mop of loose brown curls. Admittedly, the kid was cute, but she was too worried wondering how she would get through the rest of the day without a pen. Seriously, at this point, she would settle for a lead pencil.

As soon as she sat down, she noticed the syllabus on her desk, making her groan inwardly. She glanced up when she felt someone watching her and saw the boy in front of her turned around, holding out a pen. How did he know she needed one?

With a shrug, she grasped the outstretched biro, "Thank you," she smiled. He grinned in return and faced the front again. What was that about?

Ellie only had two more classes with the boy: chemistry and economics. Not that she would ever admit it, but she was looking for him everywhere she went. She had no idea why, but decided questioning it would do more harm than good.

At the end of the day, she was stood with Allison at her locker. Her cousin was asking her how her day went, seeing as they didn't share every lesson with each other. Ellie left out no details about just how thoroughly boring school still was.

"But it was fine, Allie," Ellie leaned back against the wall, scanning her eyes over the rest of the halls. She locked gazes with the boy from English, and her lips twitched upwards. For some bizarre reason, she wanted to go over and talk to him. He was leaning against a locker, looking adorable with his puppy-dog eyes focussed on her. Okay, she really wanted to go and talk to him. She was saved from that ridiculous notion when a girl walked up to the pair; she mentally slapped herself. Seriously, what the hell was going on with her?

The girl was really pretty, with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes. She wasn't very tall, but her heels made up for it, acting as stilts to bring her to Ellie's height. The girl inspected the Argent's, lips pursed, hip cocked to the side. "That jacket," she said to Allison, "Is absolutely killer. Where did you get it?"

"My mum was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco," Al answered.

The girl turned to Ellie, "And you… I _love _that necklace,"

"Oh, yeah," she shuffled uncomfortably, "Thanks, um, it was my mums,"

"And _you_," the girl flipped her hair, "Are my new best friends,"

"Uh…" Allison floundered for something to say, but she was cut off by a guy walking forward. He had styled brown hair, an attractive face and an ugly orange shirt on. He said a brief hey before lip-locking with the girls' new friend. When the couple pulled away, the boy grinned at Ellie.

"Hey, I'm Jackson," he introduced, "And this is my girlfriend-"

"Lydia Martin," she interrupted, a warning look consuming her face as she stared pointedly at her boyfriend. Jackson just wrapped an arm around her and smirked.

"I'm Allison," Al greeted them, "It's really nice to meet you," She nudged her cousin.

"Oh, yeah," Ellie rubbed her sighed, eyes narrowed at Allison, "I'm Ellie,"

"So," Lydia folded her arms, "This weekend, there's a party,"

"A party?"

"Yeah," Jackson nodded, "Friday night. You should come,"

Ellie bit her lip, trying to think of a decent excuse, "Uh, we can't," she refused, before Allison got any ideas, "It's family night on Friday. Thanks for asking." She didn't miss the frown she got from the other brunette.

"Are you sure?" he pressed, "I mean, everyone's going after the scrimmage,"

"You mean like football?" Allison asked curiously. Ellie knew that her cousin couldn't care less about sport, but she did. Football wasn't her strong suit, and neither was baseball, but she liked soccer, and lacrosse. And there was the fact that athletic guys were always the best looking.

"Football's a joke in Beacon," Jackson said around a laugh, "The sport here's lacrosse," Ellie's eyebrows rose. Maybe this town wouldn't be as bad as she thought, "We've won the state championship for the last three years,"

Ellie stole a look in the direction of the boy from English, noticed him looking and turned away again, blushing. "Because of a certain team captain," Lydia ruffled her boyfriend's hair.

"Well, we have practise in a few minutes," Jack informed them, "That is, if you don't have anywhere else to-"

"Well, I was going to-"

"Perfect," Lydia interrupted, "You're coming,"

Ellie wasn't really objecting to watching the practise, because, hey, she enjoyed lacrosse. It was a contact sport, and a lot more thrilling than other popular American past times. The field was already dotted with players as the three girls found a space on the already full bleachers. The sport really must've been the best in town to receive this sort of viewing for just a random gathering. It wasn't even the first elimination; according to Lydia, that was on Friday.

She caught sight of the boy again; who she was considering just referring to as Puppy Boy, because of his adorable big brown eyes. Yeah, she was a sucker for that kind of thing, no matter how tough she made herself out to be. He met her eyes and beamed; like he had done every other time they'd seen each other. It could have been creepy, but it wasn't. She gave a manly head nod in reply.

The coach walked up to Puppy Boy, and they exchanged words. He looked angry as he was tossed a stick and a face guard, but he ran to the goal nonetheless. With interest, Ellie watched as the rest of the team lined up, save form a kid on the bench, and the one at the front readied himself for throwing the ball.

"Who is that?" she blurted to Lydia, making both of the girls break out of their conversation and look at her.

"Him?" Lydia nodded in the direction of the goal, making Ellie nod in response, "I'm not sure who he is. Why?"

"He's in my English class," Ellie felt heat rising in her cheeks, but she pushed it down before her cousin noticed. She already knew she wouldn't hear the end of directly seeking the name of another student, especially seeing as it was one of the male gender.

The whistle blew, and He Who Has Not Been Named clutched his head in pain, like it was hurting him. He doubled over, shaking visibly, but apparently the assholes on the lacrosse team didn't care that their goalie was very obviously not okay, and the first guy let the ball go.

It wasn't a great shot; Ellie could've done better, but it was good enough to hit the boy in the face and send him to the ground. She bit her lip, wondering why that affected her so much. She didn't even know the kids name, and now she was expressing more concern for him than she did her closest friend back in New York? That didn't make any sense whatsoever.

"Way to catch with your face, McCall!" Someone yelled, and the boy, McCall, sat up, head turning in the direction of the bleachers as people began to laugh. Sympathy curled within her.

This didn't seem to deter him, however, as he pushed himself back onto his feet, rolled his shoulders and adopted a stance that was almost perfect for the position. She was slightly impressed; after a hit like that, she wouldn't have blamed him if he gave up.

The ball was flung at him, and, moving like an expert, he caught it in the net. McCall gaped down at it, like he hadn't thought he would catch it. Judging by the fact Lydia didn't know who he was, and that everyone on the field was regarding him in complete and utter shock, he wasn't usually this good.

The next five or so balls were all caught, and the crowd was steadily gaining enthusiasm. People were letting out yelps of encouragement, Ellie found herself grinning.

"He seems like he's pretty good," she noted casually.

Lydia nodded, "Yeah," her voice was unnaturally high as she puckered her lips, "Very good,"

McCall bounced in excitement.

Jackson must've been a big shot in High School Lacrosse, because, as soon as he shoved his way to the front of the line, everyone else stopped. It was like a collective breath was drawn in, and they were treating it like a cheesy western showdown. Tacky music played in Ellie's head, followed by close-ups of the boys' eyes through their face guards.

He ran, did a weird leg-flick thing as he jumped to send the ball flying, tearing a path through the cold air. McCall moved so fast you'd miss it if you blinked, plucking the ball from the air and sending it to rest in the throat of his stick.

Everyone on the bleachers cheered, Lydia even going as far as to stand up, cup her hands around her mouth and whoop. Ellie felt herself grinning as he swivelled to face her.


	2. 02

_Wolf Moon,_

Ellie decided that taking a drive through Beacon Hills would probably be a good idea. She and Allison didn't get to finish their tour the night before because of almost hitting that person, so venturing outside on her own seemed like a plan. Her cousin was already doing homework ("You're so lame, Al," Ellie scoffed, "Who does homework?") and refused to come out with her, so she just changed into something comfier (a loose, grey t-shirt, the same jeans but minus the bra), grabbed the keys to the _Mazda _and went for a drive.

The first thing she saw was the animal clinic, but she didn't think that would be very important. She was allergic to cat fur and she was terrified of dogs, so, unless she decided she wanted a chinchilla, the location of a vet was about as important to her as who was winning _America's Next Top Model_.

Next it was the school, but she breezed past that like it wasn't even there. Then there was the local supermarket, and the Macy's (she had to convince herself not to go inside and take a look).

It was when she was on her way home that she hit the dog. She was just driving, humming along to _Rockstar _by Nickelback. So, it wasn't the most ladylike music choice, but she always found herself enjoying it, so she left it on her iPod. The volume was too low, so she let her eyes flee from the road in front of her and to find the dial on the radio. It was in that second she heard a loud whine and her car bumped.

She braked immediately, horrified, and ran out of the car. She didn't like dogs, sure, but that didn't mean she wanted to kill one! Without thinking, or caring about the rain (seriously, was rain like an omen for hitting/almost hitting someone with your car, or something?) she gathered the canine up in arms, deposited him in the trunk of her car, and ran back round to the driver's seat.

It wasn't a smart move, considering, but all she could register was that she needed to get the animal to the clinic as soon as possible; contacting the owner was the least of her worries.

When she got to the red brick building, she realised she was crying. Her hair had started to curl again, and it stuck uncomfortably to her face. Ellie banged her fist on the glass in the door, wrenching herself to the side to look back at the car; like she was afraid the dog would get up and crawl away.

The door opened to reveal the last person she expected. It was the boy from English, Puppy Boy, He Who Has Not Been Named, McCall. He was looking at her in worry and slight discomfort, which was probably due to the fact she was blubbering like a new-born. Jesus, she was making a fool of herself in front of a good looking boy.

"I- I didn't see it," she said shakily, "I looked away from the road to turn the volume up on my radio, and this dog, it just came out of nowhere."

"It's alright," he soothed, "Do you remember where it happened? So I can send animal control to find it?"

"No!" she shook her head franticly, "No, I mean, I know where it happened. Somewhere between the high school and Macy's, but that doesn't matter! It's in my car."

"Okay, it's okay," he placed a hand on her shoulder, "Give me your keys and I'll go and get it."

Looking back on it, maybe giving a total stranger her car keys wasn't entirely clever, but at the time she was so distraught that the idea of someone stealing her cousin's car didn't matter.

She handed him the keys, praying he didn't notice how much her hand was trembling, and stumbled her way inside the clinic. She wasn't sure where to go, but she ended up in a little room with a metal table in the middle. It looked like it was the place the doctor would examine the animals.

He joined her not long after, the whining dog in his arms. He placed her down on the table before inspecting her for any damage.

"I think her leg is broken," he told her finally, "I've seen the doctor do plenty of splints. I can do it myself and give her a pain killer for now."

"Thank you for doing this," she said, wiping her face in embarrassment, "If you hadn't been here I don't know what I would've done,"

"Well, anything for a damsel in distress," he grinned boyishly, making her smile slightly in return.

"You're lucky you helped me," she said playfully, "If it was any other time I'd hit you with a speech about feminism and how I'm no more of a damsel than you are,"

He chuckled, before noticing that Ellie had subconsciously wrapped her arms around herself to conserve heat. "I have an extra shirt in my bag,"

"Oh," she moved her arms to dangle by her sides, "You don't have to..."

"I'm Scott," he said, holding a hand out, not to shake, but to give her the previously mentioned shirt, "Scott McCall."

"I'm Ellie," she took the shirt, staring at it hesitantly. If she changed, she would be warmer, but it would be really awkward to change into another shirt in a room with a boy, especially seeing as she wasn't wearing a bra.

"You can..." he rubbed the back of his neck as his cheeks went red, "You can change through there,"

"Thanks," she said gratefully.

Ellie walked to the back room, and Scott couldn't help but follow her with his eyes. The fact that she was even talking to him was crazy, and that she'd smiled at him more than once, but she was in the next room, _changing_. It was the closest he'd ever been to a semi-nude girl, and that was as flustering as it was humiliating.

He saw her through the glass in the door, and he felt like a total creeper, but that didn't stop him from watching as she yanked her tank top over her head. She knotted her hair at the nape of her neck, still topless, and, he could see, braless too. The dog made a noise, making him look over at the thing, and it seemed to give him accusing eyes.

"What?" he muttered to it, "I didn't see anything,"

Ellie herself was feeling very embarrassed. Scott was literally on the other side of the door, and she was completely bare-chested. As quickly as she could, she yanked his top over her head and went back into the room.

Scott was busying himself with wrapping the dog's leg. For someone with next to no medical training, he was actually pretty good.

"Thank you," she said, coming up beside him, "Again. I feel really stupid."

"How come?" He asked, smiling at her. He found it difficult not to smile when she was with him.

"I freaked out," Ellie hung her head, "I act tough, and I think I'm tough, but... tonight, it just showed me how _not _tough I really am."

"Hey," he ran a hand through the dog's fur, "I'd be freaked out, too. In fact, I'd probably cry, and not like a man either, like the biggest girly girl ever. And be pathetic."

Ellie giggled (_When did I start giggling? _she thought), "Hey, don't try to emasculate yourself. I see straight through you!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I saw you on the lacrosse field after school," she informed him, "And you definitely weren't acting like a girly girl then,"

It was silent for a few moments, before he peered down at the animal, "It looks like she's going to live," Scott told her. She nodded. "And I'm pretty sure she'll even let you pet her now, if you want."

"Uh, no, um," she floundered, "I'm good."

"Oh, come on," he put on his best serious face, "You don't want her to sue. I hear this breed is very litigious."

"No," Ellie shook her head, "Dogs and I... No, just," she sighed, "I'm kind of... scared of them."

"You're scared of dogs?"

She groaned, "For good reason! My childhood was filled with horror stories about rabid dogs and mauled children!"

"Wow," he blinked, "Well, I can assure you that she," he pointed to the dog, "Will not bite you."

"And if she does?"

"She will not bite you," he repeated. Making a face, she hesitantly reached her hand out, stopping before she touched the fur. Sensing her uneasiness, he gently circled her wrist with his hand and pushed it down, so she was stroking the canine. "You see," he said after a moment, "She likes you,"

She could feel him watching her, so she looked up to meet his eyes. He was giving her this puppy-eyed stare, his eyes big and doe brown and an almost smile touching his lips. "What?" she asked softly.

Scott shook himself out of it, latching onto the first excuse he could think of, "Sorry, you have an eyelash on your cheek."

"Oh," she bit her lip, swiping her hand over the side of her face, "From the crying,"

Nervousness clouded inside him as, with as much confidence as he could muster, he raised his hand and stroked his thumb over her cheekbone.

"Thanks," she breathed, throat closing. She'd never been in this sort of situation. What the hell was wrong with her? Just two days ago she was glaring, pouting, moodily watching TV and sassing her uncle, now she was melting over boy she'd been formally introduced to less than an hour before. It was pathetic, and yet she couldn't bring herself to move away from him. "I should get home," she blurted.

"Oh, yeah, um, of course," Scott stuttered.

"No, my uncle, he'll, uh, he'll be worried," she said quickly, not wanting to make it sound like she was trying to find an excuse to leave, "He's really protective, and with everything that happened with my parents he's barely let me leave the house."

"No, I-I understand," he nodded, beaming, "I'll walk you to your car,"

Outside, she opened the driver's side door of the _Mazda_, mentally coaxing herself to leave. It wasn't working awfully well; self-motivation was never one of her strong points.

"I was wondering," Scott broke the silence, "I mean, is it really family night on Friday? Or do you think, maybe you'd like to go to that party with me?"

How did he know about that?

"Family night was a total lie," Ellie looked down to hide the grin threatening to tear her face in half, "And since you asked so nicely, it would be rude to refuse."

"So is that a yes?" he asked hopefully.

"It's a definite yes,"

The week after that sort of flew by. Ellie spoke to Scott in English a few times, and was introduced to his best friend, Stiles, who, if the way he stared at her was any indication, had a huge thing for Lydia. The interaction went sort of like this.

"So, uh, um, Ellie, this is my best friend, um..." Scott trailed off, like he forgot his best friend's name. He looked a little concussed, honestly, and it was incredibly cute. The whole 'no connections' thing was down the drain now she was being forced into social interaction that didn't make her want to tear out her own hair.

"Stiles," the kid next to him supplied. She recognized him from the lacrosse practise; he'd been cheering wildly for Scott. There must have been something in the water in this town, because he was good looking too, if you like boys that looked like they were always getting into trouble. He had a large smile, curved eyebrows and hair cut short, but, with the pale skin and smattering of moles over his face, he was definitely Allison's type.

"Right," Scott nodded, flushing in embarrassment. How could he have forgotten his best friend's name? It was humiliating. "Ellie, this is my best friend, Stiles."

"Hi, Stiles," she shook his hand, grinning, "I think the appropriate thing to say in this situation would be 'it's nice to meet you', but I'm not really good with social interactions, and, honestly, you guys are kind of ruining my plan about not making friends, so I'm going to have to stay quiet."

"Making friends?" Scott echoed. Stiles gave him an oddly sympathetic look, but Ellie took no notice, telling them that she had to go and high tailing it out of their like the devil was at her heels.

What the hell was that?! She wasn't Lindsay Lohan, she didn't get word vomit! She'd totally embarrassed herself!

On Friday, she could barely contain her excitement. Allison had heard about the date a few days before, and she was gushing, bouncing, yelping in joy. She noticed the change in her cousin, and how she wasn't being as cynical and unbearably sarcastic. Ellie had known the boy for less than a week and he'd already turned her into a blushing mess. It was great!

After lessons, everyone gathered at the lacrosse fields. Lydia wasn't there, earlier she'd said something about getting a manicure ("Jackson's going to do great." She shrugged, "The last thing he needs is my support.")

The team gathered around Coach Finstock, and Ellie saw Scott amongst them, looking nervous. Allison sped ahead of her cousin, seeking a free spot on the bleachers. The first elimination, for some odd reson, was less popular than the practise earlier in the week, so finding space for two petite girsl wasn't difficult.

Elle took a second, deliberating whether or not to wave, but she found herself doing so anyway. He smiled and waved back, but snapped his hand immediately to his side after the coach said something to him.

Finstock yelled and the team dispersed, jogging to different places in the field to begin playing. They passed the ball amongst themselves, nothing particularly interesting going on. Jackson was obviously threatened by Scott, that much was seen as he purposely tackled him to the ground when he was running with the ball.

Frowning, Ellie stood up, not missing the smirk on her cousin's face as she peered n to the field, trying to see if he was okay.

It was like another epic showdown, except now Scott had something to prove. He met Jack in the middle of the field, standing facing different directions like they would in soccer, and held his stick ready. Anger was washing through him, and he felt the need to _crush _the lacrosse captain. He was just as good; he just had to prove it. He _had _to make first line.

He took the ball, sprinting away with it before Jackson even had time to blink. He dodged other players, weaving around them like he was born to. Adrenaline flooded his veins, sweat beaded on the back of his neck. He could do this.

_I can do this._

Three of his teammates blocked his way to the goal, and, without even thinking, he jumped and flipped over them, landing expertly on his feet with a grace he had no idea he possessed. From the stands, Ellie cheered.

He made the shot, launching the ball at the net so it passed straight through the goalie's (his name was Danny, and he was Jackson's best friend) legs.

Ellie jumped to her feet, screeching in support and celebration. Allison joined her, and then they were hugging, and it was the most the girls had ever screamed.

"McCall!" Finstock shouted aggressively, "Get over here!" Scott tore his eyes away from his cheering teammates and jogged to the Economics teacher. "What in God's name was that? This is a _lacrosse _field! What are you trying out for? The gymnastics team?!

"No, coach," Scott shuffled his feet.

"What the hell was that?"

"I-I don't know," He stuttered, "I was just trying to make the shot."

"Yeah, well you made the shot," Coach grinned madly, "And guess what? You're starting, buddy. You made first line."

Scott's mouth dropped in shock, and everyone on the bleachers applauded. He turned to stare at them, meeting Ellie's eyes. She gave him the largest smile he's ever seen.

A feeling of pride overtook him, and, for the first time in a while, he was completely happy.


	3. 03

Scott was at his house, having just had a really horrible conversation with Stiles. His friend was convinced that Scott was a werewolf, even though that was ridiculous. So, he got bitten in the woods by a weird, unidentifiable animal, so what? He just made first line, he had a date with a girl he couldn't believe wanted to go out with him... everything in his life was somehow perfect, and he wasn't about to let Stiles wreck it for him.

He took a quick shower, making sure to wash his hair thoroughly, and sprayed himself with a healthy dose of deodorant. The last thing he wanted was to smell like he just stepped out of a gym.

When he left the bathroom, he noticed his mother standing just outside the door. Melissa McCall was a great mum, and he loved her a lot. She was the only person he had left, really, and she tried her best. Being a full time nurse and mum couldn't be easy, but he tried to help her with it.

"Mum!" he yelped in surprise, hand flying to where the towel was wrapped securely around his waist. This was a very uncomfortable situation.

"Is this a party," she said, smirking, "Or a date?"

He looked down bashfully, "Maybe both."

"And her name is?"

"Ellie," he answered, blushing. This was not a conversation he wanted to be having - and he only had twenty minutes left to get ready!

"Ellie," she repeated, "Nice," she held out the car keys.

He gave his sweetest smile, cupping his hands around them, "Thank you."

Melissa hesitated, "We don't need to have a... talk, do we?"

"Mum," he groaned, "I'm not having the safe sex talk with you."

She made a noise of indignation and horror, eyes wide. That was _not _what she meant! "Oh, oh my God!" she leaned back against the wall; staring up at the ceiling, "No, I _meant _about keeping the tank full!" she snatched the keys away from him, "Give me those!"

"Are you serious?"

Melissa scoffed, "You bet your ass I am serious! I am not going to end up on some reality television show with a pregnant sixteen year old. Come on!"

Allison was freaking out, trying to find an acceptable outfit for her cousin's date. Ellie herself was sat calmly on her bed, waiting for the other brunette to stop rummaging through her closet and to actually choose something already.

"Ah ha!" she yelled, bringing out items of clothing and throwing them at Ellie, "Change! Go, now, shoo!"

Ellie bundled up the fabric, making a face as she went to the bathroom. She was not nearly comfortable enough around Allison to change in front of the girl, not matter close they were.

(Allison had picked out a white satin top, with no sleeves and a large knot on the front that resembled a bow. That was paired with a pair of grey, tweed high waist-ed shorts and thigh high white socks.)

When she'd dressed, Allison took great care in applying makeup, with the cat's eye effect and pale pink lip-stick. Her hair was then braided over her shoulder.

"You look great!" Allie squealed, "Just you wait until Scott sees you!"

Ellie wasn't quite sure what to the think when she looked in the mirror. She barely recognized herself. The girl in front of her didn't have the clouded look of grief in her eyes or the pull of a frown in her eyebrows. She was elegant and beautiful, with long legs and thin waist. Allison had really gone all out to make this date a success.

"Thank you," she said, "Really, thank you. If you weren't here, I'd probably have ended up going in a pair of jeans and a tank top.

"Well, I try," Allison nudged the shorter girls shoulders, "Now go get your shoes on, I heard him pull up a second ago."

Ellie did as she was told, biting her lip nervously (the shoes were a pair of grey, suede booties that laced up the front and went to her ankle).

She went to the front door, calling a brief goodbye to her uncle before swinging it open. Scott was in the car parked at the front of her house, looking about nervously until his eyes found her. They smiled at each other, and she went to hop into the car.

"Hey," she greeted, "You look really nice,"

He did look really nice. His hair was combed and he wore a nice t-shirt under a khaki button-up. He was only wearing jeans, but they didn't have any wears or holes, and he smelled really nice. She wondered suddenly if she was overdressed.

"W-you, um," he blushed, "You look beautiful,"

She felt heat creeping up her neck and spilling over cheeks, but she ignored it, sinking further into her seat and watching as the street rushed by on their way to Lydia's house.

The party was really crowded when they got there. It seemed like the whole school had turned up, bumping and grinding in the back yard like their lives depended on it. Scott paused when they went outside, and she glanced at him in confusion. He stared over at the gate for a moment, where a dog was barking, before casting a look at the full moon. She frowned.

"Are you okay?" Ellie wondered nervously. Was she doing something wrong?

"Yeah, uh, I'm great," he took her hand, letting his date lead him further into the crowds of people.

Ellie wrapped her arms around his neck, their faces close together, and he hesitantly placed his hands on her waist. They bobbed to the music (some old Jason Derulo song), and, after giving himself a mental pep-talk, he let himself brush a loose hair away from her face.

It wasn't entirely romantic, it smelled like alcohol and hormones, but there, in that moment, neither of them could think of anything better. Their faces were close, there was almost no space in between their bodies and Scott's heart was pumping so fast he was worried she'd be able to hear it.

In hindsight, that was the problem. His pulse quickening made him pull back in pain; his pulse quickening made him stumble away. His pulse quickening made him leave the party in a daze, not noticing the strange looks he was receiving or registering the sound of Ellie calling out behind him.

She followed him outside, but by the time she got there, he was already gone. What the hell happened? Did she do something to make him uncomfortable? She knew making connections was a bad idea; dating Scott obviously wasn't going to work out.

"Ellie," someone called from behind her. She spun around. "I'm a friend of Scott's," the person continued, "My name's Derek."

Derek was attractive, that was damn sure. His hair was dark, and his eyes were this pale green colour that should've been beautiful, and would've been if they didn't hold so much intensity and coldness, like he had closed in on himself. He wore a black leather jacket and a white t-shirt, with straight jeans.

"Um, hi Derek," Ellie raised her eyebrows, confused. He was a friend of Scott's? Was that supposed to mean something?

"He asked me if I could give you a ride home," he explained, smiling casually, "He said he wasn't feeling well and that he was sorry,"

"Well, uh..." she shuffled her feet, "This is going to sound childish, and, if I knew you, I would usually care about that, but, you know... stranger danger and all that."

"Hey, I promise," he held up his hands in surrender, "I mean you no harm,"

"Well, obviously," she snorted, "Even if you did, I could take you."

And she could. She'd taken mixed martial arts from the ages four to fourteen, and archery for longer. She knew how to kick ass and take no prisoners, but she wasn't stupid.

"I'm sure you could," the words were said playfully, but there was this glint in his eye, like he actually believed what he was saying, "So, call your cousin if you want, but I won't be able to sleep tonight knowing I left you stranded."

"Okay, um," she fished into her pocket for her phone, "I'll call Allison." She dialled the number, "Hey, Allie,"

"Hey, Ellie!" Allison shouted over the music inside, "What's up?!"

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm getting a lift home from Scott's friend, Derek," Ellie explained, "I'll see you at home,"

"Okay, yeah," Allison replied, "I'll see you later!" She hung up.

"Let's go,"

Ellie was at home, later, a bit creeped out. Derek knew where she lived without giving him any directions, and he gave her this look as she walked inside, like he was accusing her of something. It was somewhat terrifying. And then there was the fact that she had no idea where her scarf was. It had been casually placed in her bag, just in case, but it was gone. For a moment, she wondered if he'd taken it, but she removed the thought immediately. She probably just lost it at Lydia's party, whilst she was dancing

Uncle Chris was at work ("He's a federally licensed arms dealer, Ellie," her aunt had said to her, "His hours will never be normal."), but Aunt Victoria was downstairs cleaning up. Ellie wasn't sure why her aunt acted like a housewife; she was incredibly qualified and could be a major asset to any workplace.

The doorbell rang, but Ellie stayed in her room, dressed only in a blue tank top with spaghetti straps and a pair of flannel shorts. She didn't want to see anyone, not after the disastrous date she had. He just skipped out, not acknowledging her. He hadn't even texted her to ask if she was okay to gt home! Maybe he wasn't as nice as she thought he was.

"Ellie!" she heard her aunt yell, and she skipped over to the landing that overlooked the front door. She saw Stiles there, looking frantic. His mouth dropped open when he saw her.

"Yes?" she asked, pursing her lips.

"Oh, uh, you know, just, uh," he choked slightly, "Just checking in."

"Okay, Stiles." Ellie deadpanned, "Well, now I'm just checking out."

At six o clock the next morning, Stiles came across Scott in the woods. He was dirty, and not wearing a shirt. Stiles pulled the jeep up beside him.

"You know what actually worries me the most?" Scott grumbled, looking out of the window as the woods passed by.

"If you say Ellie," Stiles jutted out his chin, "I'm going to punch you in the head."

"She probably hates me now," Scott groaned loudly.

"I doubt that," Stiles said, though he wasn't so sure, "But you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology." He looked over at his friend in excitement, "Or, you know, you could tell her the truth and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you're a _freaking _werewolf." Scott sent him a look. "Okay, bad idea. Hey, we'll get through this. Come on, if I have to I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once, I could do it."

Scott snorted out a reluctant laugh.

On Monday, Scott tried to speak to Ellie every time he saw her. She was avoiding him, he could tell that much, and it made his chest ache. He went completely insane during their date and that, potentially, could've ruined everything.

It got to the point where he decided to corner her after school, as she was leaving the building. He sat himself down, in his lacrosse uniform, on a bench by the road, and waited.

"So what happened?" He jumped, looked up to see Ellie, "You left me stranded at the party."

He stood, following her as she continued walking, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm so sorry, I really am." He took her hand, both of them stopped walking, "But I just need you to trust that I had a _really _good reason."

"What?" she gave him a blank look, "Did you get sick?"

"I definitely had an attack of something," he allowed, smiling bitterly.

Ellie demanded, "Am I going to get an explanation?"

"Can you just-" Scott groaned, "Can you just trust me on this, please? I need you to trust me."

"Will I regret this?" she asked, folding her arms. She wanted to forgive him; she just didn't know if she should. Especially seeing as he refused to explain himself.

"Probably." Without meaning to, she laughed. "So... is that a yes?"

"Since you asked so nicely," she grinned, "It's a _definite _yes."

A car horn tooted, making Ellie groan in annoyance. "That's my uncle. I've got to go." She walked away, and Scott started back up in the direction of the school.

As he walked, something felt off. On a whim, he turned, looking to where Ellie had climbed into a red SUV. What he saw made him freeze.

It was the man. The man from the night before.

Derek called him a hunter.

His crush's uncle shot him.

With.

A.

Crossbow.


End file.
